Chapter 10
Celeste POV:
After leaving the cemetery, I continued my investigation without allowing myself time for sentimentality.
Initially, I planned to question some people from my father’s company, but suddenly, I received a phone call.
It was from Mason Scott, someone my father had sponsored in the past, a young werewolf who came from the impoverished mountainous areas. His voice was anxious when he spoke, “Miss Parker, I’ve just returned to the Pack and heard about Mr. Parker’s illness. How is he doing now?”
“Thank you for your concern, Mason,” I answered softly, my heart heavy. “My father is still in the hospital, receiving
treatment.”
“Ah, how could the Moon Goddess be so cruel to someone as good as Mr. Parker? Without his generosity in supporting and bringing us out of those mountains, we wouldn’t have the lives we have today.”
His words sparked an idea in my mind. If my father had been supporting underprivileged pups from remote areas for many years, could Layla Kingsford–the girl who had disappeared–have crossed paths with him through this support program?
“Do you have records of the students my father sponsored?” I quickly asked.
“Yes. I’ve been keeping contact with Mr. Parker on behalf of those he sponsored, so I know most of them. But during the years I was abroad, I lost touch with the ones who leaved BlueOcean Pack for other places. Still, if you need any assistance–financial or otherwise–please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d do anything to help.”
“I have a photo here,” I seized the opportunity without hesitation. “Could you check if she’s someone my father once sponsored?”
“Of course, Miss Parker.”
Within half an hour, Mason sent me the information he found.
The young woman in the photo had bright eyes and a radiant smile, closely resembling the little girl from the gravestone–especially her eyes, strikingly similar to Dominic’s.
Her name was Delilah, born into a barren mountainous area. According to the files, my father had been sponsoring her for twelve years. She’d been an excellent student, receiving scholarship offers from several top domestic international universities while still in high school, ultimately choosing to leave BlueOcean Pack to study at another large pack.
She might be the person I was looking for. Immediately, I arranged a meeting with Mason.
Mason arrived punctually at the coffee shop we’d agreed upon. I had met him briefly a decade ago, when he’d still
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been an inexperienced young werewolf. Now, he’d grown into the CEO of a publicly listed company–sharp, confident, every inch the elite.
Even though my family had fallen, he greeted me respectfully, “Miss Parker, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“I just arrived. Let’s not waste time, Mason,” I began directly. “Do you still have contact with Delilah?”
“I used to. But since she moved to another pack, two years have passed during this period and I have not been able to contact her again,” Mason replied thoughtfully.
“Do you know how she’s doing currently?”
“I just returned a few days ago and learned about Mr. Parker’s condition through mutual friends. Honestly, I didn’t have deep interactions with Delilah–most of my communication with her was through your father.”
Mason paused, taking a sip of coffee before continuing, “But after you contacted me, I reached out to some old friends. Unfortunately, I received news that Delilah had passed away. Such a bright young werewolf; she should have had a promising future.”
“How did she die?”
“I couldn’t uncover much. I only know that she was found at sea.’
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My heart sank. Some things didn’t add up. Layla had disappeared at about six years old; she should’ve retained childhood memories.
If my father had truly supported her through school, why hadn’t she reached out for help later? And upon arriving at BlueOcean Pack, why hadn’t she returned to Kingsford mansion?
Most importantly, how did her death connect to my father?
“Did my father treat her well?” I carefully probed.
Mason nodded earnestly, “Delilah had a tragic upbringing–both parents died when she was very young. After she was accepted to school here, she came alone, but your father consistently looked out for her. I heard she was bullied in the dormitory due to her introverted personality.”
“Your father helped her rent a small apartment, ensuring she could focus peacefully on her studies.”
After a short pause, Mason gave me a curious look. “Miss Parker, why are you suddenly so interested in Delilah?”
“I want to find out the truth about her death and seek justice for her,” I answered truthfully.
Initially, my plans were simple: divorce Dominic, secure the ten million payout, settle my father’s debts, and quietly leave this world.
But now, there was something more important–I had to clear my father’s name and uncover the truth behind the
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Parker family’s suffering.
Mason appeared to understand my determination. He handed me a business card, “Miss Parker, this is a close friend of mine, a reputable private investigator. If you need to find answers, he can help.”
“Thank you so much, Mason.”
“No need for thanks, Miss Parket. It was only a brief acquaintance with Delilah, but I also hope she rests peacefully. I’ll stay at BlueOcean Pack for a while; if you need anything else, please contact me. I have another meeting to attend now, so I won’t keep you longer.”
“Take care.”
After Mason left, I immediately contacted the investigator, provided all the information I had, and asked him to start digging right away.
Upon returning to the hospital, Dr. Smith–my father’s attending physician–called me into his office.
A terrible feeling washed over me. “Dr. Smith, how is my father’s condition? When will he wake up?”
“Miss Parker, please brace yourself. Although Mr. Parker’s surgery was successful, the lingering effects of his head injury from the car accident are severe. He currently shows no signs of waking up, and… it’s possible he might never regain consciousness.”
My heart dropped into an abyss. My hands shook uncontrollably as I gripped the disposable cup.
Seeing my distress, Dr. Smith sighed softly, “Miss Parker, don’t lose hope yet. I’m merely stating possibilities. If your father regains consciousness by month’s end, there’s still a chance of full recovery.”
I fought back tears, my voice shaking, “If he doesn’t wake up, he’ll remain in a vegetative state, right?”
“That’s correct. Therefore, it’s crucial you mentally prepare yourself and plan accordingly.”
Dr. Smith knew I’d been struggling financially. Continuing care for a patient who might never recover was an enormous burden, practically impossible for me to handle alone.
Yet, a newfound resolve surged within me. Rising steadily from my seat, I declared firmly, “No matter the outcome, I will never abandon my father. I still believe miracles can happen.”
Stepping out of Dr. Smith’s office, I realized just how critical the situation had become. If my father didn’t wake up, the truth might be lost forever with him.
But I wouldn’t surrender so easily. I needed to live–to find answers, to accompany my father through h
moments.
Without hesitation, I rushed toward the oncology department, where Julian had just finished an examination. Ignoring all decorum, I burst into the room.
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Julian was so startled by the sudden rush of me into the room. I thought the hairs on his ears would have exploded if his wolf ears had been exposed. But seeing the desperation in my eyes, he was clearly moved.
I clutched his white coat desperately, like a drowning woman grabbing onto driftwood. “Julian, chemotherapy, surgery–I want to live longer. Please.”
Only if I survived could I solve the mystery, protect my father’s dignity, and stay by his side.
Although Julian didn’t know exactly what had changed my mind, as a doctor and friend, a relieved expression crossed his face.
He gently took my hand, which was clenched into a fist, responded gently but firmly, “Alright. I’ll arrange your first chemotherapy session immediately.”
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